


Blood and Water

by awintersrose, shipcat



Category: Naruto
Genre: A Little Death, Kakuzu is a Tsundere Piece of Shit, M/M, Religious Imagery, Rough Sex, mature themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 01:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14177916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awintersrose/pseuds/awintersrose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipcat/pseuds/shipcat
Summary: In the aftermath of a perfect ritual, Hidan is awarded the highest blessing his god can give. Kakuzu reaps the benefits.“His partner eyes him knowingly, and it seems like only seconds pass, but the next thing Hidan knows they are gone from the clearing and is his face pressed into the bed they share. A strong hand grips at the back of his neck as Kakuzu tears away both their clothes, his threads expediting the process. The rosary is left where it always is, the blood flecked metal smooth under his palm, forever warmed from Hidan's skin.”





	Blood and Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SyndellWins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyndellWins/gifts).



> ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

It is done.

Hidan licks his lips, tasting the air, heavy laden with a sweet coppery tang. The ruined form of a precious sacrifice lies before him, eyes rolled back into its head, chest wound still slowly oozing. Its back arches obscenely over a shallow brook, blood and water mixed together so closely that he cannot tell where one ends and the other begins.

The corpse is the very vision of life and death; pain and ecstasy; fear and _desire -_  it is the most perfect, complete sacrifice that Hidan has made in his life. If he were a pretentious cuck, he would name it _‘La petite mort,’_ and call it his masterpiece. But he is not Sasori or Deidara, so he does not.

Instead, he says to the sacrifice, “Jashin is pleased with you,” grinning with sadistic fervor and delight and _more_. Energy prickles along his skin and he sees in shades of red; running hot to cold, wet to dry in tacky splashes that stand out in stark relief against the paler tones of his bare flesh, now reverted to its original pearlescent hue. Adrenaline courses through his veins, and electricity thrums down his spine into a gathering pool of heat that sits low in his belly.

It is only a matter of time until certain hungers surface in answer and he is filled with the intense need to indulge them.

His partner eyes him knowingly, and it seems like only seconds pass, but the next thing Hidan knows they are gone from the clearing and is his face pressed into the bed they share. A strong hand grips at the back of his neck as Kakuzu tears away both their clothes, his threads expediting the process. The rosary is left where it always is, the blood-flecked metal smooth under his palm, forever warmed from Hidan's skin.

Hidan laughs, carelessly exhilarated by Kakuzu’s haste.

“What happened to ‘no blood on the sheets, Hidan’?”

“We will get them dry cleaned.”

“Oh,” He mock-swoons into the pillow-top, grin wide and vicious. “You treat me so well, ‘kuzu.”

Kakuzu rolls his eyes, suddenly curving fingers and threads around Hidan’s throat and tightening them until his partner’s breath hitches. He knows without looking that Hidan’s eyes are half closed, already rolled back, reveling in the abruptness of his touch, and the illusion of danger.

“I’m putting it on your tab.” Kakuzu says, shifting forward on the bed until their bodies meet. He places his free hand on the center of his back, right over his partner’s heart.

“Greedy fuck,” Hidan mutters, even as his pulse beats like war drums underneath Kakuzu’s fingertips, and he bears down hard, forcing Hidan further and further into the bed until his lungs tremble with effort, scarcely able to draw breath. The pressure, the lack of sight, and the solid presence of Kakuzu above him dash the thoughts from Hidan’s mind, and intensify the excitement igniting throughout his body.

Kakuzu presses himself temptingly against the cleft of Hidan’s ass, making his partner writhe and tilt his hips up to increase the contact. Kakuzu indulges him, leaning upwards, strands of his long hair cascading down onto his back. The dark tendrils are just as soft, just as insidious as the threads that have torn hundreds of men to shreds. His voice is only a little unsteady as his lips brush Hidan’s ear, murmuring, “who is the greedy fuck now?”

“Are you shitting me?” Hidan snarls. “Shut your heathen mouth and get on with it already.”

“Fine.”

Abruptly, Kakuzu flips him over and shoves him backwards, banging his head against the wall. Hidan, free from his grip, lunges towards Kakuzu, scratching at his arms with chipped green nails, cutting away the stitches that hold his partner together. With each snipped string, Kakuzu comes more and more undone, jolting up into Hidan’s body and biting the edges of hymns as they spill out of his partner’s mouth.

They come together and rip each other apart, fingers into muscles, flesh against flesh, killer onto killer. Hidan’s hands run up his back, twisting the various heart strings and tangling them in his fingers. Gritting his teeth, Kakuzu buries his head into Hidan’s neck and roughly fists the two of them together. His other hand fumbles, traveling around hips, down his spine, and even lower, then stops. Briefly, Kakuzu pulls away to rifle through his cloak pockets for lube, returning just as Hidan is ready to drag him back into his previous position, all too eager for more.

“Fuck,” Hidan gasps, as a slick finger slips inside of him and curls just _so._ Bursts of light flash behind his eyes as a second finger joins the first, quirking expertly inside him, seeking the center of his pleasure. Kakuzu bites down on his partner’s neck, sucking lurid marks onto his form, his hands working Hidan until prayers and pleas fall from his mouth, indistinguishable from one another.

“ _Kakuzu_ ,” he chokes, an inch away from yelling. “Just. Fucking. Shove it inside already.” Hidan squirms underneath him, spreading his legs wide apart, inviting him to come in closer and take his soul. Kakuzu, ever avaricious, pushes a third finger inside him.

“Yes, yes!” Hidan hisses, tension trilling throughout his entire being as he squirms, clenching tight around his partner, legs lashing out. Unbidden, threads burst out of Kakuzu’s seams and loop around them, squeezing, searching for that carnal friction. One string slithers down and joins his fingers as they probe inside of Hidan, unleashing another round of rumbling curses and moans.

The sounds pierce Kakuzu so powerfully that he has to pull away, five pulses thundering, to frantically pat the bed for the lube. Gone.

“Don’t you - don’t you fucking dare leave me like this!” Hidan hisses as Kakuzu rolls away, threads retreating back into his body. “You ass! You absolute _cuck!_ Jashin will punish you! _”_

“If you aren’t patient, I will leave you here to finish yourself.”

He ignores the outburst of complaining as he searches the dark room for the lube, which he finds overturned and half-empty under the bed, apparently kicked off by Hidan’s thrashing. He straightens his back, masks creaking in anticipation, and is treated with the following sight:

Sheets half-tossed off of the mattress, bloodstained and crumpled, and forgotten. Hidan’s toes digging into the bare mattress, with one hand rubbing himself, thumb smearing a bead of precum around his cockhead. The other hand reaches out to Kakuzu with wanting, impatient fingers. His body heaves up and down as he gasps for air, heart fluttering wildly through the pink and irritated wound in his chest, whimpering, _“Please!”_

 _Please._ Hidan’s voice, low and dulcet, reverberates down each and every string inside his body. He has never said this - not to a stranger, not to Pein, and certainly not to him.

“Please, Jashin,” Hidan continues, “let our deaths be long and, ah, merciless,” He pauses as Kakuzu climbs over him, pouring more lube onto his hand. “Let our pain be felt throughout the land, let our fear spread along the masses, and let our pleasure…fuck, our pleasure -”

Hidan cuts himself off with a long moan as his partner massages oil into him, dissolving into increasingly profane begging.

Kakuzu lines himself at his entrance and pauses, mind circling around that one word. _Please. Please. Please_.

“‘Let our pleasure be shared,’” he finally says, quietly finishing the prayer.

Hidan gives him a wide-eyed look, but before he can say anything else, his partner thrusts them together, kissing him deeply. Their tongues roll against each other, and they are close, _close_ \- so close that they can almost feel all six of their pulses humming together. The air is ripped from Kakuzu’s chest as he is all but lost in the press of Hidan’s body surrounding him with incredible heat. He can taste the salt of their mingled sweat and the desperate whine low in Hidan’s throat as he draws back and buries himself deep, wanting nothing but to hear that sound again and again.   

“A-ah!”

He is successful.

Breaking away from the kiss, Hidan’s head snaps back as he arches up, bending his body into the same shape of the corpse they had hastily left cooling in the gurgling stream. He wraps his arms and legs around Kakuzu, rolling his hips in short, hurried circles, the desire to tear and be torn apart searing through him. His nails claw down his partner’s back, catching on the teeth of his masks as he groans, “Almost, almost, almost, al -”

His partner obliges - withdrawing, changing the angle slightly - before plunging into him once more.

Hidan is unmade and remade in one fell swoop; in whose image, he does not know. The face of god flashes into his vision - not Jashin or his heralds, but Kakuzu, hovering above him, swallowing his screams as they exit his mouth. A scorching tide of sensation roils through the core of his very being, stealing his breath, and edging his sight with a deep red glow before he descends into sweet, fathomless darkness.

* * *

 

“You died.” Kakuzu nonchalantly informs Hidan when he awakens, hair ungelled and messy where his head was laid against the crook of his partner’s arm. “No pulse. No breath. Nothing.”

“Mhm. Just a little. It happens sometimes.” Hidan shrugs, distantly feeling his partner’s skin drag against his shoulder blades, mind still buzzing with the echo of their coupling.

“Ah.” Kakuzu’s bicep twitches as his arm curls around his partner. His fingers cautiously drum at his hip, damp with the chilled sweat of a corpse; and where normally Hidan would whine and shove him away, this time he gives a large, cracking yawn and allows himself to be pressed against the line of Kakuzu’s side, body singing with energy. His muscles relax, chest slowing as he slips into sleep, warmth slowly returning to his once lifeless body.

The moment passes tranquilly. The moonlight walks across the floor with seemingly loud, creaking footsteps that only add to the noisy thoughts clamoring for his attention. In the corner of the hotel room, the clock beams the hour and minute directly at his face - midnight, a quarter past one, then 3:33 in the morning - at which point Kakuzu’s arm, currently being used as a pillow, has become annoyingly numb.

“What the fuck…?” Hidan blinks owlishly as his lover yanks him up so that he is laying across Kakuzu, smearing blood and other crusty, sticky fluids over their skin.

“My arm is falling asleep,” Kakuzu needlessly informs him.

Hidan squints at him suspiciously. Then he shrugs, and hides his face in the crook of his partner’s neck.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Half-conscious and fully sated, Hidan does not care that his lips brush his partner’s throat in something resembling a kiss, subdued and sweet. He does not notice as Kakuzu stiffens underneath him, muscles twitching, before he grits his teeth and forces himself to unwind. After a beat, Hidan closes his eyes and prepares to dream once more, visions of gods and monsters and battle marching through his mind.

“You don’t normally die when we fuck.” Kakuzu's voice cuts through the quiet, chasing away the promise of slumber.

“I’m trying to sleep, asshole.” Hidan flattens his ear against Kakuzu, trying to block out his partner’s voice. He focuses on the rumble of five hearts and their dissonant beats, as loud as thunder, as brutal as a clash of foes, which lulls him once more.

“Tell me why you died, then you can rest.” Kakuzu’s arm wraps around him, sharp brown nails digging meaningfully into Hidan’s chest. “Forever, if you want.”

Hidan let out an irritated sigh into Kakuzu’s collarbone. “Jashin killed me, and brought me back to life, to reward me for my devotion to his cause, and the exact execution of his will.”

“The ‘exact execution’?”

“The perfect ritual.”

“...explain.”

Hidan freezes underneath his arms. For one heart-stopping second, Kakuzu thinks that the Jashinist has died again, but then Hidan wrenches himself away. He sits up on top of Kakuzu, brows raised in shock. The Jashinist pendant glints and jingles around his neck.

“Are we seriously doing this now? For real?”

Kakuzu’s red-green eyes stare up at him. His thumbs circle the inside of Hidan’s legs, hands clamped down on his knees, a silent reminder that escape is not an option.

“Oh man, oh man. We really are doing this.” Hidan runs a hand through his hair, scowling as it comes back greasy. “Crap. Okay. Fine. Not that you give a fuck, but there are a shitload of rules that you have to follow in order to please Jashin.”

Taken aback, Hidan glances away, teeth worrying the edges of his bruised lips, he peeks again at Kakuzu, who, despite the small quirk to the corner of his mouth, is listening intently.

“First, the sacrifice must be pure, in body and spirit. They gotta be of age,” Hidan adds matter of factly, “‘cause Jashin does not accept the souls of children. There's no point in killing people that haven't had the chance to suffer. There is no honor in fighting the weak. If they are not strong, they will die on their own. That’s just how it is in this bitch of a world.”

As Hidan explains further, his tone becomes more serious and respectful, though the zeal behind his words increases with each truth revealed. The sacrifice must embrace Jashin with open arms and wide eyes, and the follower should share this glorious revelation with a joyous and aching heart. The sacrifice must occur in a place where death lingers, like battlefields or graveyards.

“In this case?”

“Rivers,” Hidan says, profoundly quiet, thighs trembling around Kakuzu. “Many souls cross over rivers.”

“And why did that kill you?”

Hidan’s eyes lift upwards, staring through the ceiling and towards the heavens. Kakuzu can feel his bones quaking in awe. Not the fervor and agonized bliss of the ritual, but the true humility of a supplicant seeking to please his god.

"Fortune rains down upon those that follow Jashin,” Hidan starts, bracing himself against Kakuzu’s shoulders. "He shall provide for those who spill blood in His name, and they shall want for nothing, for they have been chosen to enact his divine will on Earth. When called to hour of true death, they shall be chosen to stand by His side in the afterlife, blessed with the gift of eternal suffering in His dark presence."

Hidan tilts his head to the side and leans down, strands of silver hair obscuring his eyes. His wine-colored irises are barely a halo of color around his pupils, blown wide with the weight of his words and the sudden lust of his body. “When I did the perfect ritual, Jashin, in his mercy, granted me the most carnal of sacraments."

Framed by the moonlit window behind him, Hidan shines with silver light and reverence. He is soft in the way that marble is, with blue veins and hard muscles; a strange angel worshipping an even stranger god, perched on Kakuzu and looking down on the earth. Both in the world and not truly of it, Hidan's soul may be consecrated to Jashin, but he is still Kakuzu's to behold, to touch, and the realization makes the breath stutter in his lungs.

His hands grip Hidan’s legs tighter. “What would that be?”

“Kakuzu…” Hidan’s hands slip into Kakuzu’s hair, arms wrapping around his neck, drawing himself down until they are eye to eye. The Jashinist pendant is caught between them, forever warmed by Hidan, who grins diabolically above him.

“You destroyed me…  mind, body. Soul. You murdered me. _You_.”

Hidan closes the scant distance between them, kissing Kakuzu ardently, and for once, his lover does not pull away. Kakuzu’s hands mold around Hidan’s hips, drawing him closer, and Hidan makes a low sound, deepening the kiss until they are both left breathless.

"When I swore I would kill you, this is not what I meant." Kakuzu’s lips inadvertently brush his lover’s jaw as he speaks, and Hidan dips to steal another kiss, more playful this time.

“Sucks to be you, I guess,” Hidan chuckles, drifting his lips across Kakuzu’s collarbone, the press of his body making his reawakening passions known. Tempted, but painfully aware of how dirty they are and how little oil remains, Kakuzu’s fingers wander up the back of his legs and settle on the small of his partner’s back, neither pushing or pulling him away.

One, two temptations against the hollow of his throat, another on his jugular. Hidan's mouth is hot, tantalizing skin that Kakuzu will never admit is as sensitive as it truly is. His lover’s lips leave electricity in their wake, rousing his own body, and given the circumstances, Kakuzu knows he should not give Hidan what he wants a second time.

Even so, warmth swells in his chest when Hidan nips at the junction where his neck meets his shoulders, when his fingers caress a large stitch on his side. It is not something he wants to let go of just yet.

This moment, after the ‘perfect’ ritual is complete, is the only time when Hidan has ever been gentle or compliant. He could not count the number of crimes he would commit,  the lives he would end, to have Hidan give him this sort of touch again.

Grinding down, Hidan makes an attempt at a fifth temptation, only to be thrown to the side when Kakuzu rolls on top of him.

“You ready to go, old man?” Hidan smirks triumphantly as Kakuzu sinks into him, unintentionally rocking his pelvis downwards. His hands wander the curve of Kakuzu’s back, teasing the strings fastening the masks onto his body. The movement is oddly soothing.

Kakuzu lays his forehead on the side of Hidan’s neck, listening to the life pumping through his veins, low vibrations seeping through his vocal chords, “Jashin must be so pleased with me that - ”

“Hidan.”

“Yeah?”

Bronze, tattooed arms wind around Hidan, pinning his arms to his sides. “Shut up.”

“Eh? Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

For once Hidan does shut up, but not without grumbling to himself about how dirty he is. Kakuzu closes his eyes and tries his best to tune him out.

It is nearly four am, and the moon has gone mute. In an hour or less, the sun will rise, and take this moment with it. Kakuzu is seconds away from drifting unconscious when Hidan pipes up.

“...’kuzu?”

Kakuzu grunts.

“I can’t fucking move, man.” He jabs Kakuzu with the bony part of his knee. Irritating.

“ ‘Sucks to be you, I guess.’ ”

Hidan huffs. “Come on, you’re damn hot and we’re all sticky. And since you’re not willing to make the most of it, a bath, maybe?”

Kakuzu opens his eyes slowly, altogether unwilling to shake the lassitude and hazy warmth from his limbs, but the tone of Hidan’s voice, laced with the edge of something almost polite, spurs his movement. He braces on his hands and slowly lifts away from Hidan, grimacing at the catch of skin on skin where the evidence of their previous activities is beginning to dry.

“Fucking finally!” Now free, Hidan lies back on the bed and stretches, elongating his abdominal muscles and flexing his arms. He catches Kakuzu’s eye. Purposely runs a hand over the dip of his pelvis, and - no.

Kakuzu looks away, filling his mind with simple arithmetic, tallying the damages done to the room and how much they might cost. He prods a stain on the mattress with some disgust, before stalking into the bathroom, and turning on the shower tap.

Hidan, it seems, would soon owe a considerable sum on dry cleaning, and Kakuzu has no doubt that he will have to foot some of the bill himself. He focuses on this thought as the water begins to run warm, only partially masking the sounds of his partner’s attempts to lure him back to bed. Then at last, the water flows hot and vaguely steaming, and Kakuzu steps into the shower, relishing the feel of the spray sluicing over the tense muscles of his shoulders, rinsing away his cares for a moment.

Minutes later, Hidan appears in the bathroom entrance. He leans against the door frame, fingers curled lightly around the edges, observing his partner while he waits for his turn in the shower. Kakuzu, in contrast, refuses to acknowledge his presence, or his irritatingly self-satisfied face, so much so that Hidan becomes impatient.

“Yo, ‘kuzu, I gotta do my ablutions before you dirty up the place with your heathen shit.” Without waiting for an answer, Hidan vaults into the shower, hoping that his presence will force Kakuzu to make a swift retreat. Even so, he makes sure to stay out of strangling range, sitting on the edge of the tub as Kakuzu finishes his routine.

“Idiot. You are just as dirty as me.” Kakuzu pulls his hair over his shoulders and lathers it with soap. Hidan dips his toes into the pool of water. He can literally _feel_ the layers of salt and sweat peel away from his feet.

“Heh, you’re probably right,” he says, glancing up.  

In the morning light, standing in a very certain way, Kakuzu looks younger, less bitter. Reborn, almost. The blood and water runs down Kakuzu's front in small, pink rivulets, to circle the shower drain. Then Kakuzu shifts back to wash his hair.  The dawn disappears, the angle is all wrong... but Hidan knows a sign when he sees one.

Hidan rises to his feet, with new certainties sparking to life in his heart. Those who spill blood in Jashin's name want for _nothing_.

Inquisitive red-green eyes meet his, blinking slowly, as he draws closer to join his lover under the fall of hot water. A smile curves the edges of Hidan's lips when once again, Kakuzu does not shy away, and he takes the chance to slip his hands around the taller man's waist, in an embrace foreign to them both until now.

It is weird, and wet, and slick. The Earth Grudge Fear masks poke Hidan’s chest; the Jashinist pendant burns against Kakuzu’s spine. This - whatever it is - feels ... nice. Almost _too_ nice.

“What is this all about?”

Hidan gives a soft laugh. “Those who spill blood in Jashin's name want for nothing. _I_ want for nothing. I have all that I need.”

With that, Hidan tucks his face between his lover's lightning and fire hearts. Kakuzu scoffs, eyeing the pale arms possessively slung across his middle. His frown disappears, never to be seen.

"Why rely on others for good fortune, when I can take it for myself?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please feel free to leave a kudos or a comment below. 
> 
> To stay updated on our future works, catch us at [awintercat](https://awintercat.tumblr.com).


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